


The Fiend Serum

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Dark!Bellamy, F/M, Oops, Trigedasleng, WHY DO NO DARK!BELLAMY BLAKE FICS EXIST???, bellarke trash, dark!bellamy blake, fiend!bellamy, fiend!bellamy blake, harvest!bellamy, write, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mount Weather has been overrun, the prisoners held there freed by the Sky People and Grounders. Though Clarke has saved the 47, a missing Bellamy is nowhere to be found. Where is Bellamy? And what did the people of Mount Weather do to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. quake

**Author's Note:**

> \--This story is set after Bellamy Blake is taken into Mount Weather, after the episode “Survival of the Fittest.” (2x10)--
> 
> Anyways, hi there!
> 
> This is my first Bellarke fic, so bear with me!  
> I had an epiphany after 2x10, I just had to write this. ( +there are like zero dark!bellamy fanfictions [WHICH IS A FUCKING SIN] *cough* excuse me )  
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is set after Bellamy Blake is taken into Mount Weather, after the episode “Survival of the Fittest” ( 2x10 ) These are alternate events, written by me. Not canon ones. Those belong to the writers of The 100 and The CW.
> 
> \- - -
> 
> Alright! Chapter One is here! Sorry it took a while- I had a little bit of writers block this week.
> 
> So, as I said in the notes at the end of the previous chapter, I'll be adding a little Trigedasleng dictionary for you guys below!
> 
> GLOSSARY
> 
> Gonakru- Warriors / Group of warriors
> 
> Trigedakru na liv on: The Tree People will live on! ( the forest Grounders call themselves Trigeda [singular] and/or Trigedakru [plural.] )
> 
> Skaikru: The Sky People ( used to refer to the people who came from the Ark.)
> 
> Jus drein jus daun: Blood demands blood/ Blood will have blood. ( This usually refers to a part of the Grounder culture- if someone is killed by another, they will pay the price for that killing. )
> 
> \- - - 
> 
> There! Now you know what the phrases mean.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter! I'll try to keep this five day schedule steady.

**c h a p t e r  o n e**

 

They’d finally done it. Mount Weather had been overrun.

 

The attack had not been easy. The combined force of the Sky People and the Grounders snuck in through the Reaper Tunnels, the Reapers momentarily distracted by a frequency device (recreated by Raven Reyes, of course.) When they finally reached the door to the Cage Rooms, Mountain Men were at every door, guns at the ready, desperate to protect their people. Gas grenades and shock rods were used on Grounders and Sky People alike. But they rampaged through these throes of soldiers unmercifully.

 

These Mountain Men had taken their people long ago. There would be no apology.

 

Finally, the last Mountain Man was defeated, and they reached the solid steel door to the Harvest rooms. Clarke remembers the moment they burst through the entrance of the compound, flooding into the room of cages and hanging chains. Sirens rang through the air, red lights flashing above the doors and all around the chamber. The first to get inside, with Commander Lexa next to her, Clarke the one most familiar with this place. A mixture of scents hit her nose first- antiseptics and blood and death. Voices could be heard amongst the sirens- the moans of the hundreds imprisoned here. She almost gagged, but gathered herself. She would live through this hell for her people. Then they would leave. _Every last one of them._

 

And Lexa’s. The Grounders walking through the door began crying out, recognizing faces and bodies that hadn’t been seen in years. Soon, a din of rattling metal echoed through the rooms as cages were open, as captives were freed. People were helped from their cages, leaning on arms and shoulders with fatigue. Lexa let out a breath, one Clarke was sure she'd been holding for a long time.

 

“My people are coming home.” She whispered.

 

Clarke gasped, snapped out of her stupor. The 47 were here. Her eyes scanned the room, falling on a grounder opening one of the cages near the door to the Mount Weather facility. “Lexa, I’ll be back soon, okay? Give me a second.” A boy fell out of the cage, his skin pale and his black hair mussed and limp. His eyes were closed, and his breathing shaky. So dirty and stained in blood, he could’ve been mistaken for any victim of the Harvest. But Clarke knew better.

 

"Monty!" She shouted, running to her friend's side. His eyelids fluttered weakly, his arm raising to try and grasp Clarke's.

 

"Clarke?" He rasped, squinting up at her. A small smile tugged at his mouth as he recognized her. "Finally... I knew you'd come. I... I knew it..." Monty began coughing, his hacking loud and congested. He stopped to breathe, unable to speak for too long.

 

"Okay... Okay, Monty? Stay with me. You're gonna be fine. Where are the others? Jasper? Miller? Where are the 47?"

 

"Some... Still in the facility... Locked up. When they started taking more of us... Everyone panicked... Half of us are here... Half in there. I don’t know… If anybody’s died… Find them, please..." Monty grasped at the collar of her jacket, his hands finally slipping as he fell unconscious.

 

"Hey! I need a medic! He's weak. He was probably Harvested. Please." Two people darted to her side, taking Monty by his arms and legs and lifting him, carrying him away from her. The image mirrored that of a body, but Clarke shook the thought away. _I’m going to get my people out. Whatever it takes._ She stared after him for a moment, worried, before steeling herself. Now they would have to retrieve the rest of her people from the inside. Briefly, she tugged her map from her pocket, glancing over it’s corridors before stuffing it back in her pocket. Going over the route in her head, she stood up, pacing over to Lexa, who was giving orders to one of her soldiers.

 

“Lexa. I need your help.”

 

“Clarke? What is it? Is something wrong?” The commander turned, her eyebrows drawing together. Once more she had painted the black, winged design around her eyes, making her stare a piercing one.

 

“One last time, I need you to rally your warriors. Some of my people are still in Mount Weather. I understand that they already know we’re here, and it’s dangerous, but I need them out now. Otherwise, the people of Mount Weather might kill them. Please. I can’t just let half of my own die in vain.”

 

Lexa eyed Clarke for a moment, obviously conflicted. She stared out at the masses of people being freed by her warriors and the people of the Ark, and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Then, they flashed open, a new flame burning within them.

 

“ _Gonakru_!” She roared, her voice echoing through the chamber and cutting through the noise. Clarke was startled for a moment before everything died down, heads turning to look at the two of them. Lexa swung her head to look around the room at her army. Her people. Power resonated from her, commanding the attention of everyone. “ _Gonakru_ , we have found our people. After years and years of separation, and loss, and blood, our people are returned to us,” Lexa glanced over at Clarke for a moment, before turning to the crowd once more. “With the help of the Sky People, our families will be rebuilt.  _Trigedakru na liv on!"_

 

A cheer erupted from the warriors, their shouts gathering within the chamber. Some of the Ark members began cheering too, clapping as hard as their hands could. Lexa allowed this for a few seconds, finally raising her hands for silence.

 

“Now, now we must repay our allies. Half of the missing Sky People are still within the mountain. Skaikru, too, have waited for their people to be free. We will return what has been given! It is our way.” Some of the Sky People murmured excitedly, smiles appearing on their wary faces. Clarke almost grinned herself. We’re getting them out. This is happening. My friends… I’ll be there soon. “I ask you now, warriors, come with me and fight! Fight against the monsters who have plagued your people for years! Fight against those who have spilled our blood! _Jus drein jus daun!_ ” At this, the roar began again, now filled with bloodlust and a hunger for revenge. Clarke stared at the door into Mount Weather, a silent foreboding curling within her chest. A chant started up, warriors and teenagers alike screaming in the vault of death, freeing their people from their chained hell. _“Jus drein jus daun! Jus drein jus daun!”_

 

 _I will find you all. I promise._ Clarke thought, her hand curling into a fist. For the first time in a long while, she felt anger running in her blood as well. She tried to ignore this feeling, of blood, of death, of war, but it rushed through her like a tide of red.

 

_Blood will have blood._

 

Then, they burst through the door, ready to face any gunners or warriors or goddamn monsters they had to, roaring and shouting as their feet pounded on linoleum flooring, weapons at the ready-

 

But the mob slowed, and Clarke stopped. A quiet fell over the front of the group, their once battle-raised arms now hanging at their sides. Lexa looked over the heads of her warriors, shouting. “Clarke? What’s going on up there? Why are we not moving?”

 

It was a moment before Clarke spoke, as if she’d forgotten how. But she found her voice, turning back slowly to Lexa. Her blue eyes were wide with shock, not sadness, not grief.

 

“Nobody’s here. All of the scientists… They’re gone.”

 

“Wait, what?” Lexa’s mouth snapped shut, and she pushed through her crowd of people, reaching the front in a few moments. She stopped too, surveying the scene before her.

 

Papers were scattered on the white floor, some of their edges singed brown and black from flame. A grey smoke hung in the air like a wispy fog, darkening the once pristine glow of the walls and floors. Clarke moved forward slowly, her steps cautious as she looked into one of the doorways. The computer screens still cast a bluish light on the room, but they were jagged and glitchy, flickering. The keyboards were smashed, the hard-drives destroyed. She held her sleeve up to her nose, coughing. Someone had fried the paper shredder, some of the long strips of paper singed. Clarke suddenly felt very dizzy, and stumbled from the room.

 

“Someone burnt everything. All of the paper, the information, it's gone. Someone didn’t want us to find the stuff on those computers.” She shook her head, focusing. “It doesn’t matter now. We need to find the 47-”

 

“Guys!”

 

Clarke turned at the voice, her eyes widening. Suddenly, she was being squeezed by a hug, and she coughed once more, a smile growing on her face. “Jasper!” The boy pulled back, grinning wildly. His curly hair was clean and washed, and all of the teens wore clothes from Mount Weather, drastically different from the Grounders. The rest of the 47 were here. Clarke’s eyebrows tugged together suddenly. “Wait, how did you guys escape?”

 

Jasper’s smile slowly faded, replaced with a slight look of confusion. “I… I don’t know. They just let us go. It was almost like they didn’t want us to stay anymore. Maybe they saw you coming. Anyway, they sealed the door behind us. There's no getting inside, for anything.”

 

Something dropped in Clarke’s stomach. This wasn’t right. _None of this is right… Why would they just let them go? This is so out of character for Mount Weather…_ _What are they doing?_ “You just left? All of you? But Mount Weather wouldn’t just-”

 

Then, a long, piercing screech blasted through the hallway, and every person immediately covered their ears, some crying out. A deep rumbling began in the floor, and the lights shut off, replaced by red emergency lanterns, pulsating. Clarke opened her eyes slowly, still crouched down on the floor. She stood, looking around in a panic.

 

_What the hell is going on?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> By the way, if you'd like further updates on the fic/The 100, just check out my blog http://bellamyblogs.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you!


	2. tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke forgets.
> 
> Lincoln escapes.
> 
> But how much will it cost the both of them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY
> 
> so I didn't stick to my five day schedule  
> I was without internet access for like three days...?
> 
> anyway, this chapter is about 2,000 something words long
> 
> please enjoy it! 
> 
> [ there is no trigedasleng in this chapter. ]

**c h a p t e r  t w o**

 

_[ Thirty minutes before the infiltration of the Mount Weather Experiments Compound ]_

 

\- - -

 

10:54 AM

 

Dear Dr.Tsing,

 

I do not have much time for a report. The People of the Ark and the Grounders have infiltrated the Experiments Compound. There is no chance at driving them out with guns- there are far too many. I’m afraid that the hard-drives must be destroyed. Fortunately, we have our backups here on Floor Seven. Evacuation into Mount Weather has begun for the lower workers and scientists, and we’re moving towards the Back Tunnels, through which we will reach Area 9. Subject 006 will be transported there as well. Tests will then resume as normal. They will not find us, I assure you. The Quake Mechanism has been deployed- it will not be long before they try evacuating.

 

Soon, we will be able to counter this assault.

 

We will retrieve your experiments. The 47 will not escape this alive.

 

Sincerely,

The F.I.E.N.D Science Lab, Sub-Floor Seven, Mount Weather Experiments Compound

 

\- - -

_[ Present day. ]_

 

_What the hell is going on?_

 

Jasper stood up next to her, a grimace on his face and his hands pressed against his ears. “W-What’s happening? What’s that noise?” He squinted over at her, the pulsing lights making it hard to see.

 

“I don’t know!” Clarke yelled, turning to Lexa. She too was covering her ears, trying to keep her warriors from panicking. Some people were already heading for the door, including the remaining 47. “Okay, okay… Everyone! Get out of here now! This place is unstable. Through the door! Hurry-” Before she could finish, a lamp shattered, sending a spray of sparks out from it’s core. Other lamps began to pop as well, and further down the hallway, an entire string of emergency lights crashed to the floor. Clarke felt her heart thumping in her chest, and she desperately reached out to grasp someone, to make sure she was still there. The crowd was now pushing for the door, a sea of bodies and arms and heat in the half darkness. She could barely keep track of Lexa and Jasper, and eventually lost them to the fray. Clarke was alone once more in a heaving mass, her eyes open but unable to see.

 

Finally, they reached the door. The teal lights were flashing red here, too, and people were flooding from the cages to the doors. Clarke saw one Grounder still in her cage, banging on the metal to be freed. She ran to the cage, picking up a piece of metal and jamming it into the lock, promptly cracking it open. The girl thanked her, the words almost indiscernible in her fear. Clarke let her pass, looking around for any other closed cages, but seemed as if everyone had escaped.

 

The mob pushed her forward, and she stumbled towards the door, suddenly unsteady in the chaos. All she could feel was confusion, and the desperation of the throng. Her vison blurred, teal and brown and blackness swirling together in her sight. Then, she slowed, and Clarke looked back into the rooms, her world suddenly going quiet. _There’s… There’s something missing. I’m forgetting something…_ She could feel Lexa next to her, shouting at her to get out, to run while she could. The tunnels were shedding dust, falling in rivulets around them. But Clarke still stood, people rushing around her and Lexa in a desperate attempt to leave before the tunnel’s impending collapse. _What am I missing?_ Lexa was tugging on her arm now, her voice urgent, but far off.

 

Then, it was as if the tunnel had already collapsed, because she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten, forgotten this, forgotten him, and Lexa is tugging on her arm, but Clarke is moving for the teal rooms again, her mouth open in a scream she can’t hear anymore, as the people, her people, run in the opposite direction, but she can’t think, she can’t breathe, she can’t speak, _because she’s left her people inside Mount Weather-_

 

_“Bellamy!”_

\- - -

 

The room was quiet, but Lincoln could hear every tick, every shift, every movement in the air. Agitation festered somewhere deep in his body, slowly creeping it’s way into his head.

 

Being strapped down and alone in a room can do that to a person.

 

It had been a week and a half since he and Bellamy had infiltrated Mount Weather in an attempt to shut off the communications and booby traps that prevented the armies from reaching their families and friends. Lincoln grimaced, pushing away the memory of succumbing to the Red. But the image of Bellamy’s face as he failed him would be imprinted on his mind forever. _I messed up._ He groaned inwardly, turning his wrists in his bonds. Still, he’d itched for that drug, unable to control his addiction. Maybe he wasn’t a Reaper yet, but the Red still hadn’t helped his condition.

 

Lincoln stopped, turning his head on the table. A steady clicking of heels, followed by the swaggering lope of a walk and the harsh boots of two guards, progressed down the hallway to his room. Something inside of him kicked, and he struggled to free himself once more. The sounds were not promising.

 

The door opened, years of age and warfare making it’s hinge screech into the hallway. Immediately, he turned his head towards the ceiling, acting complacent so the guard wouldn’t shock him awake. Lincoln braced himself for the screech that inevitably came with the hinge of the door, his eyes squeezing shut. But there was no sound. He blinked them open again, staring at the metal ceiling questioningly. _What…?_

 

“Lincoln.”

 

He froze, suddenly unable to see anything clearly. Breathing became hard for those few moments, as if his mind could only focus on analyzing what was happening. Then, it all rushed to meet him, and his fingers curled, all of his thoughts falling upon him at once. _How does she know my name? What’s going on? Why does she know my name? Why does she know my name?_

 

“Yes, I know your name. I also know you understand English,” The female scientist walked slowly around his table, her condescending look making his skin crawl. Yet he kept his face stoic, only viewing her out of the corner of his eye. “Turns out that our informant was useful after all,” She seemed to be muttering to herself, but she straightened, looking down at Lincoln with a small grin. He felt his eyebrows draw together slightly. _An informant…?_

 

Then, a figure was silhouetted in the lit doorway, all broad shoulders and ratty hair. The light filtering around the figure highlighted a mysterious red substance smeared across his skin, a few cuts standing out on his arms. His shadow was cast across Lincoln, and he squinted, trying to make out the face. The shadow cracked his knuckles, the sound ringing in Lincoln’s ears. He squinted harder, almost able to make the face out. _Where do I know him from…? No. No way. Is that…_ He stepped into the room, finally recognizable. Bellamy Blake stared down at Lincoln, his face blank as slate. _Bellamy… What?_ There was something incredibly cold in his eyes, something incredibly wrong.

 

“Anyway. You can probably guess what’s going on. We have our new asset,” She put a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, shaking it whilst smiling. He didn’t move a muscle, still staring at Lincoln. “And he needs one last test before we send him into the field. Using a close ally… It’ll work splendidly. Though we won’t kill you. You have a job as well, you know.” With these words, she turned, pacing slowly to the doorway. He glanced from her to Lincoln, not allowing his panic to show. He was a warrior. _Be strong_. She reached the hallway and paused, looking back.

 

“And Lincoln? I said earlier that Bellamy here is an informant. That’s really only half true. His purpose is not to give us information, really,” She giggled softly, her eyes suddenly as cold as Bellamy’s. “I, personally, wouldn’t call him an informant. More of an… attack dog.” Those last two words sent chills down Lincoln’s spine, and he balled his fists. The scientist smiled at his reaction. “Sorry. All dogs have to be trained, right?”

 

With that, the door swung shut behind her, leaving Lincoln alone with the monster.

 

Immediately, Bellamy’s expression changed, morphing into a smirk. It looked incredibly out of place on his face, as if Bellamy weren’t Bellamy anymore. _But he isn’t._ The bindings around Lincoln’s wrists opened, the sound of metal loud in the room. Lincoln slid off the table, taking a step away from him. He suddenly understood the thoughts of panthers the Tree Clan hunted, the fear and foreboding that came with their last breaths as prey. Bellamy held himself like the spear. The knife. The predator.

 

“Lincoln. Long time no see.” Bellamy’s voice was quiet, almost a low growl. Dark humor laced his tone, and Lincoln stayed back, knowing that coming closer would be a mistake. “I mean, it’s been what, a week since you betrayed me in those tunnels? Feels like months.” They began circling, fighters in a ring. Lincoln could feel the building tension in the room, like a weight in his stomach.

 

“Look, Bellamy. If you’re still in there, we don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this.”

 

“Do you know what they did to me?” Bellamy’s smirk was gone, his eyes cold again, his fingers twitching ever so slightly. Lincoln gulped, unable to look him in the eye. “First, they Harvested me. Pints and pints of blood. Then came the torture, three straight days of it. I thought it would never end,” He laughed, the sound empty. “But you know what was the best part?” His eyes gleaming, Bellamy grinned at Lincoln, all shadow and evil and death. “They started injecting me with this purple liquid. Hell, the shock torture didn’t even matter anymore. It felt great. I feel great. Amazing. Better than I ever have.”

 

“It’s an addiction. The liquid changes you. I’m already on the Red. You-”

 

 _“Lincoln, I don’t care!”_ Bellamy shouted, shaking his head rapidly. “I’m powerful now. Stronger. Better.” He laughed aloud. “I honestly don’t give a fuck about your pity speech. I have other people to kill. Don’t let me slip up and make you the first.”

 

Lincoln took a step back. _Other people to kill? But… Who is he after? What does he mean? What have they done to you?_

 

“Hope you give me a good fight, Lincoln. I have plans. They have plans.”

 

Before Lincoln could react, Bellamy lunged forward, and Lincoln was plunged into the void of the fight.

 

* * *

 

Clarke sighed, turning her gaze once more to the mountain in the distance, washed in the light blue of dawn. Pulling her legs into her chest, she sighed, squinting out across the forest. It had been a day since the raid on Mount Weather, and Camp Jaha was as lively as ever. The 47 returned to their people, the Grounders reunited with theirs. Everything should've been fine. Unfortunately for Clarke, it wasn’t. Bellamy and Lincoln were still inside of Mount Weather, two “casualties of war” that she wasn’t ready to accept. They weren’t dead. _They can’t be._ She sighed again. This lookout would be a cold one.

 

Then, there was shouting by the gate, and Clarke shifted from her position, leaning over the side of the wall to see the entrance. People were pointing, some guns aimed at the murkiness of the night. She looked in the gun’s direction, confused. A small hope within her began to grow, and she stood up, running down to the gate. _Could it be…?_

She ran out of the gate, stopping near the gunners. Squinting into the blackness, she could see someone moving steadily closer, low to the ground. Then a voice came from the figure, and Clarke gasped.

 

“Listen... You need to... He's...” A whirl of braids darted by her, sprinting towards Lincoln’s form. "Help..."

 

“Lincoln!” Octavia caught him in her arms, and the guards lowered their guns, relieved. Clarke felt a tiny, unexplainable twinge in her stomach as she stared into the blackness. _  
_

“Look! There! In the trees! Someone else is coming!” One of the gunners shouted, and Clarke glanced up amidst the loading of arms, searching the shadows. The hope rekindled stubbornly in her chest, and she took a step forward to see better.

 

A person stepped from the darkness, his brown hair ratty and his clothes torn. Cuts and bruises covered his arms and torso, and he walked with a slight limp, stumbling forward awkwardly. His eyes met with Clarke’s, dull, and then he fell, collapsing onto the ground in a heap.

 

It was Bellamy.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that.
> 
> I have plans. Terrible, terrible plans.
> 
> Leave kudos, or, even better, comments! I really appreciate them.
> 
> see ya~


	3. prologue

**_p r o l o g u e_ **

 

_Bellamy doesn’t hear anything. His screams are too loud, his hearing cut out long ago. All he can do is remember. Remember Octavia. Remember Lincoln. Remember Raven. Remember Jasper. Remember Miller._

_Remember Clarke._

 

In. Out. Breathe. Pain.

_Sweat is slicking his exposed skin, shining unnaturally in the fluorescent light. There’s something terribly wrong about this place, with its smell of medicine and metal and blood, but Bellamy can’t quite place it. He can’t quite place anything anymore. It’s hard to see their faces- the blood seems to be seeping into his memories too._

_He hopes it doesn’t go too far- he doesn’t want to forget._

 

In. Out. Breathe. Pain.

_He’s so, so tired. There were needles in his arms and legs once, and small holes still pepper a spot on all four. Vaguely, he remembers seeing a small, clear tube, the image of his own blood being sucked from him a haunting one. The Harvest, they call it. He doesn’t remember why they’re “harvesting” him._

_It’s all blurred._

 

In. Out. Breathe. Pain.

_Finally, after what seems like months, years, millennia, they take him off the Harvest cycle. Leading him to a room deep underground, they strap him down, leathery straps binding him to a long table._

_Down here, he cannot be heard screaming. Yet the screaming never stops._

 

In. Out. Breathe. Pain.

_Sometimes, he’s left in isolation, locked up within his thoughts. Then, the people come, wielding their long, metal rods in their gloved hands. He’d shy away, almost involuntarily, as it’s tip reaches his skin, and then he’d be screaming again, the shock burning through his body, as if each and every cell were alighting itself. He's on fire._

_Amidst the flames, there's something they speak of. The Fiend Serum. All he knows is when they cone to him with that syringe, the burning stops, bottling itself up somewhere deep in his body, and for a few moments, he is released from this hell._

 

In. Out. Breathe. Pain.

_He begins blaming the people he does remember, the man with a painted face, a girl whose hands were always mottled with oil splatters, a girl with braids in her hair and flames in her eyes._

_He blames the girl with golden hair too, most of all. The one who sent him here to this mountain to burn._

_He blames them all._

 

**\- - -**

 

4:31 PM

 

Dear Dr.Tsing,

 

**F.I.E.N.D EXPERIMENT REPORT**

 

Subject: Bellamy Blake

Species: Human (Ark Variant)

Experiment Number: 006

 

Subject 006 has shown monumental signs of improvement over the last couple days. His empathy levels are low, lower than any of our other subjects. He also seems to be tolerating the Serum far better than the five others. Pain does not seem to be a problem, though further testing may be needed. Subject 006's body is strong, stronger than most. It is possible we have crafted the perfect Serum. The Perfect Fiend.

Only time will tell if he can carry out the tasks we give him.

I will email you with any further results.

 

Sincerely,

The F.I.E.N.D Science Lab, Sub-Floor Seven, Mount Weather Experiments Compound

 

\- - -

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! Please comment your opinions and leave kudos!
> 
> If you're hooked, don't worry, I'll be posting the next chapter soon! I like to stay two chapters ahead when I'm writing, so I'll always have something to post if I have writers block.
> 
> Next chapter, I'll be introducing Trigedasleng (the Grounder language) into the fic. There will be a little glossary at the beginning of the chapter in the notes to help you translate the words ( if you aren't already fluent [ i see u grounder shippers lmao ] )  
> There are also resources on The 100 Wiki for Trigedasleng (it's very, very interesting- I suggest checking it out!)
> 
> See ya!


End file.
